Boom and bust - the story of breast implants over the last 50 years

Somehow the pneumatic ‘Barbie’ boobs of silicone implants have become a symbol of beauty in modern society, yet it wasn’t always that way – so who decided that unnatural was natural, and bigger was best, in the world of breasts?

In her book, Breasts: A natural and unnatural history, Florence Williams explores the rollercoaster ride of breast augmentation.

The first breast implant was performed in 1895, when surgeon Vincenz Czerny used a benign fatty growth from a lady’s backside to reconstruct her breast after removing a tumour. This well-meaning procedure backfired as the implant congealed, went lumpy, and ultimately failed when the fat was reabsorbed into the body. But something big had begun.

In the early twentieth century, experimentation was the name of the game, and a variety of substances were tried for breast implants, with varying degrees of success. Materials ranged from the bizarre to downright dangerous: glass balls, ivory, wood chips, peanut oil, honey, goat’s milk, ox cartilage, sponges, ground rubber and – god forbid – paraffin. The latter was apparently noted as having extreme results, from simple aesthetic failure to death.

During the 1930s, a stretchy composite called silicone was discovered and, while it was being patented for use in paint, adhesives and shoe rubber, the medical profession was impressed with its strength and flexibility. At the end of the Second World War, Japan was occupied by American forces and the cultural mix of East meets West perversely ignited the quest for big breasts. Flat-chested Japanese prostitutes were being injected with silicone (drums of the stuff, earmarked for cooling transformers, were stolen from the docks of Yokohama) in an attempt to appeal to the American farm boys. This popular procedure spread throughout Asia before it was known that the silicone migrated around the body, forming hard lumps and causing serious infection.

Back in Houston, Texas, in 1959, a plastic surgeon by the name of Thomas Cronin came across the new invention of a silicone bag being used to store blood in St. Joseph Hospital: he happened to remark that it felt good, like a breast. Cronin was ambitious and had been contemplating breast augmentation for some time. He worked with his chief resident, Frank Gerow, and the Dow Corning Corporation (the company who had been diligently patenting silicone for everyday use) to develop the first silicone breast implant.

The test subject was a dog named Esmeralda and, although the experiment was short-lived because she soon chewed through her stitches, the implant was deemed a success. The next step was a human guinea pig: cue Timmie Jean Lindsey.

At the time, the 30-year-old Lindsey had been through a lot. She had dropped out of school and was married at the tender age of 15. Twelve years and six children later, she divorced her husband for being a layabout alcoholic. Her next relationship also ended sourly when she discovered he was a philanderer, but not before he had encouraged her to have roses, emblazoned with their names, tattooed on her chest.

In the spring of 1962, Lindsey was embarrassed about her body art and wanted to have it removed through a process called dermabrasion – she met Cronin and Gerow at Jefferson Davis hospital in Houston, Texas, to perform this procedure. But they had other ideas, and offered her a revolutionary breast implant instead. She joked that she would prefer to have her ears pinned back, rather than her boobs increased, so they struck a 2-for-1 deal and did both cosmetic changes. Such a cavalier attitude would not pass medical red tape today, but history was made with that simple bargain.

Lindsey, who hadn’t thought anything was wrong with her breasts prior to the operation, suddenly noticed the extra attention she received... namely from the opposite sex. Indeed, 1950s America was awash with fashionably large chests, from the curves of Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell to the birth of the Barbie doll and Playboy. Although it hadn’t crossed Lindsey’s mind, many young girls of the era were stuffing their bras to create an illusion of a bigger bust to emulate their idols.

The impact of Cronin’s experimental work only sunk in when he presented his case to the International Conference of Plastic Surgery in 1963. Suddenly, big boobs became big business. The following year, a French company manufactured a saline implant using the same silicone casing, and for the next 30 years the industry fulfilled the growing desire for surgically enhanced breasts.

But the dream image was a rough ride in reality for many patients. First generation implants hardened to form a ridge that could be felt on either side of the breast, and a large percentage of women lost nipple sensation. The worst, and most common, problem was the body rejecting the implant, creating scar tissue all round it and leaving a shrivelled lump known as the “doorknob effect”.

To counteract these problems, the sac was made seamlessly and from thinner material, but that just led to silicone leaks into the body. An improved coating called Meme was also developed to stop the implants becoming as hard as bullets, however the foam covering began breaking down in the breast. Worse still, the foam being used was the same stuff in carpet pads and carburettors!

Throughout the 1990s, patients whose silicone implants had leaked reported a number of complaints, ranging from fatigue and joint pain, to lupus. Suddenly millions of women were suing implant manufacturers and surgeons alike, for billions of dollars. The FDA banned silicone implants, allowing only saline versions while it investigated links to various immune response diseases. Over time, most of these claims were deemed to be unsubstantiated and silicone implants were reinstated. A few years later, manufacturers were still playing fast and loose with women’s health, as was seen in the 2010 scandal where a French company, PIP, made implants out of silicone intended for commercial, not medical, use, which resulted in unusually high rupture rates.

So, 50 years after the first implant, it still seems like we have a lot to learn and breast augmentation is a surgery not to be taken lightly. And what of the prototype you ask? Timmie Jean Lindsey is now over 80 years old and living in the same house in Texas. Even more amazingly, she still has those first experimental implants in her chest, even though they hardened years ago and she knows through screening that they’ve ruptured. She is, in effect, a walking museum.

by Lucy Ellis